a million tiny little things

“These don’t even work!”

Fallon stepped into the living room, a glass of wine in each hand. She laughed as she saw Harry sitting on the couch, a scowl on his face as he tried to reposition the crescent-shaped pads under his eyes. With a texture resembling snot, they were difficult to place.

“It’s all the way down your cheek!” she giggled as she set the glasses of wine on the coffee table. They each had a glass with dinner, and Fallon was already lightheaded and giggly. The sense subsided with a belly full of spaghetti, but after just a couple sips of the second glass, it was coming back.

“I know!” Harry moaned, his face twisting with concentration as he pushed the pads closer to his eyes. “Help me,” he whined, his eyes bright from wine. He wasn’t a lightweight, but Fallon made him intoxicated and he was half-drunk before his first sip.

Fallon sat on the couch beside Harry and leaned close to him as she tried to help shift the eye masks. She touched his cheek and nudged the pad, meeting Harry’s eyes. “I think your skin is too soft,” she laughed as the pad slid under her fingers.

“Definitely won’t stay on you then,” Harry mused, caressing Fallon’s cheek. He grasped her chin and tugged her closer. “Cute, little soft one…” he murmured against her lips.

Fallon snickered. “You make me sound like a kitten,” she pointed out, but she didn’t care. She found the best compliments from Harry were the ones he muddled or confused. He wasn’t as suave as the media made him out to be, and the goofy, real side of him was her favourite. “I can’t get these to stay,” she added with a dejected sigh.

“Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur…” Harry sang quietly. He touched the pads and shrugged. “Maybe if we lie on the floor?” he suggested. Fallon had a large, shag rug in front of her couch, and it looked like it could be comfortable. He laughed at his idea. “Or the couch,” he added. That seemed more normal, but there was something about the floor.

“The floor?” Fallon shook her head. “You’re so weird… but okay,” she agreed, jumping up and darting into the kitchen. She re-emerged a moment later with two bendy straws. “I don’t remember why I have these,” she admitted, plopping a straw into Harry’s wine glass, “but nothing says class like wine from a straw.”

“While lying on the floor,” Harry added. “You’re cute,” he affirmed, carefully holding the eye pads in place as he slid to the floor. He stretched out and moved the pads into the proper position before patting the floor beside him. “Get your puffy eyes down here,” he demanded, grinning as he slurped from the straw.

Fallon sat cross-legged on the floor beside Harry as she opened her pair of eye masks. She looked at him and laughed, the sight of Harry Styles stretched out on her living room floor, eyes closed with content as he tried to depuff his eyes tickling her. “You look pretty,” she teased, laying down beside him. They were shoulder-to-shoulder, legs stretched out in opposite directions. “Are my things on straight?” she wondered, fiddling with her pads.

“I can’t look, or mine will fall off!” Harry retorted. He bent his arm, encircling her head and tugged her closer. “I’m sure you look pretty, too,” he teased, pressing a kiss onto her cheek. “Oh, I have an idea,” he said suddenly, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it before opening the camera. “Smile, babe,” he directed, aware it was their first picture together. The first of many, he hoped.

Despite her makeup-free face – she begrudgingly washed it off after Harry informed her the masks wouldn’t work with makeup – and charcoal black eye pads precariously resting under her eyes, Fallon couldn’t help but offer a wide grin at Harry’s command. Even if he hadn’t told her to smile, she still would have. Smiling around Harry was a natural reaction, especially when sprawled out on the living room floor beside him with rubbery half-moons decorating their faces. The normalcy of the date was what she always desired. Fallon didn’t need wining and dining. She yearned for a connection and conversation and with Harry, she got that.

Harry grinned for the camera, his own bright, toothy smile matching Fallon’s. He watched their images through the screen, his focus only on Fallon. She was akin to a ray of sunshine, her smile stretching past her lips and to her eyes. The radiance he saw behind her sea-blue eyes made it impossible for him to look away. Her nose crinkled slightly with her smile, and Harry was certain she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

He snapped the picture, although wanting to take more, and examined the photograph. He held it towards Fallon and kissed her cheek. “You’re just beautiful…” he mumbled, her hair tickling his lips. He blushed at his words, but locked eyes with Fallon as she turned her head.

She smiled softly at his words. “You are,” she argued. She hoped Harry didn’t take offence to the word that may have feminine undertones, but with his shining green eyes, deep dimples and utter perfection, he was the most beautiful man Fallon had ever seen. She was still flabbergasted at his desire to spend time with her, but she wouldn’t complain.

“No, no…” Harry countered. “You’re number one… and you’re an amazing cook too, so… yeah, you win…” he decided, already thinking about the Tupperware of spaghetti sauce Fallon gave him. He would wait until he was home to cook up a pot of spaghetti, but barely.

“We both win?” Fallon offered. She nudged her elbow against Harry. “And don’t say ‘no, you win’ because then I’ll just say it back, and we’ll end up going back and forth all night!”

Harry chuckled. She wasn’t wrong. “Okay, fine,” he lamented. “But let’s just say… if I wasn’t such an easygoing lad, I would still argue with you,” he teased, crooking his arm and ruffling his fingers through her hair.

Fallon rolled her eyes as she tugged her wine glass closer and found the straw. “I know,” she answered, taking a drink. “I kind of like drinking wine from a straw. Reminds me of juice boxes from when I was a kid. This is just a grown up juice box…” she mused, wondering if her words made sense or if she was drunk. It was slightly embarrassing to be tipsy after just a glass, and she reminded herself to have a big glass of water when she stood up.

Harry laughed. “Grown up juice boxes are heaps better,” he affirmed, shifting closer to Fallon so his lips were parallel to her forehead. He pressed a kiss against her temple. “How are your eyes?” he asked. “Puffless?”

Fallon gingerly touched under her eye. The mask had a cool sensation, which was nice on her warm face. “Practically concave,” she laughed. “How are yours?”

“It feels so weird,” Harry remarked. “Like cold snot caked on my face, but I like it.” He rolled his eyes at his commentary. “I mean… I don’t think I would enjoy it if it was actually snot, but… oh, you know what I mean…” he said, reaching his arm over his head and swatting Fallon on the shoulder as she laughed.

“Thanks for clarifying,” Fallon deadpanned. She stretched her arms over her head, tickling Harry’s sides. “Didn’t think my living room floor was so comfortable, but I kind of like this,” she commented, finding his hand.

Harry laced his fingers with Fallon’s and gave a squeeze. “What, this isn’t par for the course with you and dates?” he asked teasingly. He meant the words to be light, but as he voiced them, he realised he didn’t want to find out what Fallon did with other dates. For all he knew, she could have had another date the day before, doing the exact same thing they were doing now. He didn’t like that thought.

“No…” Fallon answered. She wondered if Harry thought she was going on other dates. Did he think that because he was going on other dates? He had every right to, she supposed, but she didn’t like the idea of him kissing, holding hands and spending time with other girls. “I don’t… I don’t go on other dates…” she admitted quietly. If he was, she hoped he knew he could tell her.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over Fallon. “I… oops,” he said as one of his eye masks fell onto her face. “Sorry, babe,” he laughed, peeling it off her face and discarding both of his masks. “I don’t either…” he confessed. And I don’t want to, he wanted to tell her, but he bit his tongue. Instead, he fluttered his lips against Fallon.

Fallon wasn’t sure what she and Harry both not seeing other people meant, but she didn’t ask. If she did, and he told her it meant nothing, his words would devastate her. She liked how things were going, and she didn’t want her curiosities or insecurities to ruin anything. So she returned his kiss and kept her questions to herself.

Harry broke their kiss, smiling down at Fallon as he pushed her hair from her forehead. “I just don’t get how guys aren’t beating down your door…” he told her. “Bunch of fucking idiots, I’d say, but… hey, works out well for me. Uhh… really well,” he added, finding her lips again. “Really, really well…” he murmured, his voice muffled against Fallon’s mouth.

“Really, really, really well?” asked Fallon, the tummy butterflies fluttering around at his words. Perhaps he was looking at their few dates as something more, just as she was.

Harry laughed. “You got it,” he agreed. He wondered if she was looking at their dates as something more, just as he was. Desperately, he wanted to ask, but fearing her rejection, he kept his mouth shut. He supposed he would have to find a way to ask her what she was looking for, or what she saw them becoming, but even the thought of the conversation made his hands clammy. But he couldn’t, not yet.

Harry sat up straight, pulling one knee up to his chest and leaving his other leg stretched out beside Fallon. “Cute little raccoon,” he teased, tickling his fingers against her cheek. He combed his fingers through her hair, absentmindedly twirling the locks.

“If you give me a scalp massage, it really will be like a spa,” Fallon joked. Her stomach tumbled as she remembered the massage idea she had earlier. She didn’t have near enough wine in her to let Harry do that, and the right amount of wine would also land her in the hospital, so it would not happen, but she couldn’t help thinking about it.

“Your wish, my command,” Harry chuckled. Any excuse to touch Fallon. He ran his fingers through her hair, moving his fingers in a circular motion. The room was quiet, save for the consistent ticking of the clock on the wall. They hadn’t turned on music or a movie, so it was just the two of them in the silent room. Harry normally didn’t enjoy the quiet, but he found it to be calming and comforting while in Fallon’s presence.

Fallon looked up at Harry, smiling shyly as she met his eyes. “You don’t really have to do this…” she told him. “I was really just kidding…” She loved having her hair played with and her head massaged, but she didn’t want Harry to think she was demanding things of him.

“Shh, I’m concentrating on my method,” Harry told Fallon, grinning down at her. He brushed a few strands off her face, gathering them in a side cluster as he quietly rubbed his fingertips through her hair. Fallon closed her eyes, and Harry smiled, pleased she felt comfortable enough with him to relax. He hoped she would feel comfortable enough to answer his question.

“Hey Fallon,” Harry asked after a few quiet moments had passed. “When was… uhh… when was your last… relationship?”

Fallon opened her eyes and looked up at Harry for a moment. Past relationships had not come up in any of their conversations. She found herself curious about Harry’s history, but also unnerved by his experience. Telling him about her lack of experience was something she assumed she would have to do. But, it didn’t mean she wanted to.

“Uhm… well, I… I don’t really… I mean, I’ve gone on dates and stuff, but…” she closed her eyes again, not wanting to see Harry’s reaction to her confession. “I haven’t… I’ve never had a boyfriend…” she admitted in a whisper.

Harry watched Fallon’s face, seeing the red hue creep up her neck and her nervous finger flexes. She squeezed her eyes shut, but he wished she would open them, so she could see he was not judging or laughing at her. “How is… how did I find you?” he whispered back, sounding amazed by the revelation.

Fallon opened her eyes and looked up at Harry. She realised she wasn’t surprised when she saw the kindness in his eyes. She wished she could stop doubting Harry’s kind-heartedness. He was one of the best people she ever met, and every time she thought he would make fun of her, or judge her, he never did. And she didn’t think he ever would.

“I, uhm…” Fallon’s eyes dropped again, and she shrugged. “I don’t know…” she whispered back. “You don’t think it’s weird?” she asked, her eyes flickering away from his gaze.

Harry let out a loud exhale and scooted beside Fallon. He laid down beside her and propped himself up on his elbow, staring into her eyes. “No…” he assured her. “Not even close. I’m just… I’m stunned, because you’re just… you’re fucking incredible. I don’t even know why you want to spend time with a goofy idiot like me,” he added with a low chuckle.

“Well… I like goofy idiots…” Fallon answered, matching his quiet chuckle. She rolled onto her side, looking down as she saw her eye masks fall to the floor. “Oh… forgot about those… Heh, speaking of goofy idiots…” she snickered. She copied Harry’s elbow prop and swallowed hard as she looked into his eyes. Her heart was racing, but she had to ask the same question. “When was your last girlfriend?”

“Well… I mean, I guess I was seeing someone earlier this year…” Harry told her, realising he hated answering the question after Fallon’s innocent response. He didn’t want her to think he was a serial dater, the kind of guy who always had to have someone to come home to. “But it was just… a couple months. Nothing serious. She didn’t meet my mum,” he added with a loud laugh, in an attempt to rid his awkwardness.

“Was that Kendall Jenner?” Fallon hated knowing something about Harry’s past, but the relationships between him and Kendall Jenner, and him and Taylor Swift had been everywhere and impossible to ignore. Both relationships seemed to end as quickly as they began, but judging by the songs Taylor Swift wrote about Harry Styles, it had been an important relationship, at least to her. Had it been to him? What about his time with Kendall?

Harry chuckled. “Kendall is just a friend,” he assured Fallon. “The media made it out to be way more than it was, but no. It was strictly platonic…” He didn’t go into details, and he hoped Fallon wouldn’t ask. His time with Kendall had been complex, but he realised he would tell Fallon if she asked, if only to ease her mind.

“Was it Taylor?”

Harry puffed out a sigh. “No,” he admitted honestly. “She… was a couple years ago…” He loathed how Fallon knew details of his past without him telling her. He loved his career, but in times like this, he hated it.

“Did Taylor meet your mom?” asked Fallon, looking down as she forced the words through an internal steel door. She wanted to know and equally didn’t want to. It shouldn’t matter – she wasn’t seeing Harry then, and he wasn’t seeing Taylor now. But somehow, it mattered.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted. He felt as though he was confessing to cheating on Fallon, and it was an odd notion. He didn’t know her then, she wasn’t his girlfriend now. Still, he looked down, feeling shameful. “But that’s only one… and it wasn’t like…” He trailed off, wanting to tell Fallon it hadn’t mattered, but at the time, it had. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he wanted to reassure her.

Fallon shook her head. “Don’t worry about it,” she told him with a forced chuckle. She reminded herself it did not matter, and she was delusional if she believed Harry, too, did not have a past. She found his hand and pulled herself closer to him. “You’re cute…” she commented lightly, hoping the compliment would table the past relationship talk.

Harry grinned, relieved the talk of the past seemed to come to an end. “You are…” he murmured, pressing a kiss against her lips. He draped his arm over her hips. “So what’s the next in your salon?” he wondered. He desperately wanted to suggest a nice coconut-and-hibiscus massage, but he refrained. “I draw the line at pedicures,” he warned teasingly. He wouldn’t tell her he’d had many already in his life.

Fallon scoffed. “Pedicures are nice!” she argued. “But… do you want to watch a movie? This floor isn’t as comfortable anymore…” She jerked her head, gesturing to the couch. “I think the couch is a bit better…” And, she did not want him to go home.

“I do like watching movies with you,” Harry replied, grinning as he stood up. He held his hands out to assist Fallon and tugged her against him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, her head cradled in the crook of his arm. They swayed together for a moment before Harry dropped a kiss on Fallon’s head. “I’ll even let you pick,” he teased, nudging her towards the couch.

“You’re too kind,” Fallon laughed, her chuckle muffled by his arm. She pulled away from their hug and picked up their wine glasses. “Do we still need straws?” she wondered as she set them on the coffee table. “I still want to use mine…” she admitted.

Harry laughed. “Me too,” he agreed. He flopped onto the couch, pulling Fallon down to join him. He tangled his limbs around hers, tugging her as close to him as he could. It still wasn’t close enough. “You’re comfy,” he mumbled into her hair. “And your hair smells so good too. What is that?”

Before she could stop herself, Fallon quipped, “hibiscus.” Her face went red, and she wondered if Harry would catch onto her attempt at a joke.

“Oh,” Harry commented. His face flushed as he remembered the label on the massage oil. Hibiscus. He forced the memory from his mind, but it did no good. “It’s, uhm… Good scent…” he answered, sounding distracted as he tried not to think about how good Fallon would smell – and look, and feel – covered in that oil.

Fallon turned around. “I’m glad you like it,” she answered, her coy self making a brief appearance. She tickled a kiss on his cheek before pointing beside him. “Pass me the remote, please?”

She was such a brat. Harry grinned as he handed Fallon the remote, letting his fingers linger against hers. “Pick a good one,” he murmured, pressing a line of kisses against her jawline. Just like The Shining, he was not planning on watching the movie.

“I only watch bad movies,” Fallon answered, scrolling through the Netflix menu. Harry’s kisses were distracting her, so she selected a film at random and tossed the remote beside her. She didn’t care what they watched.

“Clearly,” Harry teased, looking up from his kisses at the television. “Grown Ups 2? Babe, come on… I reckon you’ve got better taste than that!” he told her, reaching across her lap for the remote. “Try again,” he suggested, a teasing smirk on his face as he handed her the remote.

Fallon jutted her lip out. “It’s kind of funny,” she complained, flicking back to the menu. “And, anyway… you were distracting me!” she told him sheepishly.

Harry smirked. “How was I doing that?” he wondered, feigning innocence. He knew how, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Fallon shook her head, her face warm as she elbowed Harry’s side. “Oh, shut up,” she told him. Of course he knew exactly how he had been distracting her. She continued searching for a movie, snickering as Harry’s lips found their place against her cheek again. “That’s how!” she retorted with a laugh.

“I can stop if you want me to,” Harry told her. “Do you want me to?” he asked, continuing to kiss her. “Hmm? Do you?”

“You’re a dork,” Fallon answered with a shy giggle. She absolutely did not want him to stop.

“That’s not an answer,” Harry teased. “I can stop… Maybe I’ll just sit over here…” he commented, disentangling himself from Fallon and moving to the other side of the couch.

Fallon frowned. “Well, no…” she pouted. “You can stay here…” she offered, a smile playing on her lips as she patted the seat beside her.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t want to distract you…” he reminded Fallon, inching closer to her. “So…” he continued, sliding beside her and draping his arm across her shoulders. “Do you want me to kiss you or not?”

Fallon tucked herself under Harry’s arm and nodded. “I do,” she told him, punctuating her request with a kiss on Harry’s lips. She snuggled against Harry’s chest and smiled his lips touched against her hair.

“Good,” Harry murmured. “Cause I kind of want to kiss you a lot…” he admitted, his voice sounding hoarse. He cleared his throat, unsure why the sudden change in tone. He tightened his grip around her shoulders and found her hand with his other one. “Like a lot a lot…” he added with a chuckle, nudging her face towards his.

“Like a lot a lot a lot?” asked Fallon, smiling at Harry.

He nodded. “A lot a lot a lot a lot a lot a lot a lot a lot… a lot,” he told her with a laugh. “That was cheesy, but…” he shrugged, “it’s true…” He snagged her lips between his, parting her mouth with a sudden fervent need. His fingers tangled in her hair, keeping her close to him. His hand ran up and down her soft arm as her hand gripped his shirt. He could hear the soft whisper of her breath as she exhaled, her quiet moan sending shivers up his spine and down his arms. He was completely drunk on her and desperately wanted more. His hand travelled down her stomach, gripping her hips and pulling her closer. But as his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt, touching her unchartered skin, Fallon gripped his hand and gently – but firmly – moved it away from her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Harry breathed against her lips. She hadn’t broken the kiss when she moved his hand, so Harry continued to dance his lips against hers, memorising every inch of them. He moved his hand back to her shoulder, a safe place, as they kissed.

“Don’t be,” Fallon mumbled, her fist still tightly clutching Harry’s shirt. She squeezed her eyes shut, but she sensed Harry’s were open as they kissed. After a moment, she slowly fluttered open her eyes. She smiled against Harry’s mouth as she met his bright green eyes, staring into her own. “Are you… are you okay with… just kissing?” she asked in a whisper, shutting her eyes again.

“Of course I am,” Harry answered. He pulled away from Fallon and grazed her cheek with his thumb, causing her to open her eyes. “I told you so. Remember? A lot a lot a lot a lot a lot a lot?” he teased. “I love kissing you…”

Fallon nodded. “Okay,” she answered, her voice breathy with relief. She looked down at her hand, his shirt balled up in her fist. “Just because I… I, uhm…” She flexed her fingers around his shirt, pulling more and more fabric into her fist as she tried to find a way to vocalise her thoughts. “It’s just that… I’m… I… I haven’t…”

“Fallon.” Harry covered her fist with his hand and gently guided her hand away from his shirt. He suspected he already knew the answer, but he still asked. “Are you…” He paused, debating if asking about her sexual part was a smart move. “I mean, have you… are you… a… virgin?”

Fallon breathed out a shaky exhale, keeping her head down. She didn’t want to sound ashamed by her status, but knowing Harry had more experience she did, with girls more experienced than she was, embarrassed her. She took a deep breath and reminded herself Harry would not judge her, before nodding ever so slightly. “Yeah.”

Harry’s heart went out to Fallon. He didn’t want her to feel ashamed, and with her head down and quiet response, he sensed that was how she felt. He pulled her close, hugging her against his chest, and she didn’t pull away like he thought she might. “Babe…” he murmured. “It doesn’t matter… I like you, and… I think it’s cool…” He pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “It doesn’t matter to me…” he repeated. “And… I’m not going anywhere. I told you before, you’re the captain of this ship. You still are,” he reminded her.

Fallon lifted her head, looking up at Harry. Where did you come from? she wanted to ask him. She hadn’t had someone else ever respect her virginity like Harry was. His sweetness made her want to cry, and she thought she might. “Thank you…” she whispered, burying her face against his chest. “I, uhm…” She swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she repeated. She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know how a man like Harry found his way into her life, but didn’t want him to go anywhere.

Notes